Dog With Two Bones
by windscryer
Summary: “Sorry, Lassie. But I had to make a choice." "There were others you could have made." "No. There weren't." DED 2.
1. Part the First

Remember how I said that my ficathon entry was like Clue? Here's the second ending. Technically the first chapter is repeated word for word so I won't feel bad if you skip it. But if you want to refresh yourself on the situation and don't want to go to Lone Wolf then read on. :D

More hints of Shules, though far more subtle than the first one.

Disclaimer: I own Season 1. Despite my desire to do so, I can claim nothing else of Psych. weeps

BACK DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE WITH YOU! BACK!

* * *

He dropped behind the broken and abandoned refrigerator, rifle held tight to his chest, and took a precious moment to wipe some of the sweat from his brow, valiantly ignoring the stench of the alley baking in the summer heat.

This needed to end soon. The adrenaline high was fading. Soon he would start making stupid mistakes. He'd be unable to stop himself, unable to win the battle of mind over matter.

He inhaled and exhaled a few times and then nodded. Time to go.

A quick peek around his cover showed no signs of movement. That meant less than he liked since it was unlikely they would be standing in the open.

How many were left?

He didn't know and trying to divine the answer would only waste time he didn't have.

Sucking in a deep breath and exhaling he rose, shifting to the balls of his feet.

_Come on, Lassiter,_ he chided when hesitation kept him where he was. _Odds aren't gonna get any better. Just GO!_

On the last word he moved, bolting from his sanctuary, his destination the half-cannibalized wreck of a truck. He zigged and zagged the twenty yards, shoulders tense under the unshakable feeling that he was being watched. The shot would come any second . . .

He made it into the shade behind the truck and was swamped with sweet relief, if only for a second.

He wasn't out of this yet, but he wasn't dead either. So far so good.

He was safe for a few moments. His quarry would have to move to be able to try for him again, especially since now he could slip around the corner without coming into the line of fire.

He needed to get back to the bank, he thought as he checked his ammo. Half-full mag in and one full spare after that. Not good, but hopefully enough. If he could get there then-

The sound of glass crunching underfoot froze his hands and snapped his eyes up.

He cursed silently yet vehemently and began a noiseless duck waddle towards the rear of the truck. Ridiculous he may have looked, but if it kept him from getting shot then he'd deal with the embarrassment.

He slipped around the corner and straightened, running for all he was worth towards the gaping doorway of a storefront. The front window had been smashed out and there were no signs of life but then he didn't really expect any. Riots had a way of chasing people off and according to the briefing it had been particularly chaotic and violent in this part of town.

He dashed inside and headed towards the back. If there was a rear entrance-and it wasn't blocked like the last one-he could cut five minutes off his journey.

He almost tripped over the leg sticking out of an aisle, but managed to hop it at the last second, spinning around as he danced to a stop.

It was Carelli. Two chest shots made it quite clear that he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

He cursed again.

Eager beaver rookie full of boundless enthusiasm . . . He'd paid the price for that enthusiasm it seemed.

_No time to think about it now,_ Lassiter reminded himself and turned back towards the rear of the store.

He located the door easily enough and found someone was smiling down on him. It was unlocked and unblocked.

Back up against the wall next to the door he gripped the handle and swallowed a mouthful of nervous saliva. He had no idea how many of the others were left. They could have easily surrounded him. He could have walked into a trap and now they were just waiting for him to try to leave so they could nail him.

He'd never see it coming.

Cursing his team for dying and himself for letting them, he threw caution to the wind and twisted the handle, throwing the door open and jerking his hand back.

No gunfire came and he dared to hope that he might have actually gotten lucky for once.

His radio crackled and his awareness zeroed in on it, blanking out the rest of the universe.

Let it be a friendly voice, he prayed. Let it-

"_Oh Caaaaarlyyy . . ."_

Another curse.

He'd thought-hoped desperately-that he'd managed to hit the younger man in their last encounter. Apparently he was wrong.

He wasn't going to be making it to the bank. He'd be lucky if he made it out the door three steps.

"_Carly, I know you can hear me. It's just you and me now. The rest of the team is gone."_

He shouldn't respond, he told himself as he looked to the ceiling, knuckles white where they gripped his weapon.

"_Don't worry. None of them suffered. None of them even knew what hit them. One quick shot and they were down."_

He shouldn't respond. He shouldn't respond. He shouldn't-

"_I can do the same for you, Lassie. Just step out that door and it'll all be over."_

He spit out a particularly colorful epithet, then clicked his radio. "How could you, Spencer?" he hissed.

A laugh came back. "_There you are! I was wondering how much longer you were going to ignore me."_

He was too cheery. He was enjoying this. He was _actually_ enjoying this. Son of a-

"Traitor," he bit out.

"_Oh ouch. Now really, Lassie, must we be reduced to calling each other names?_"

"You _betrayed_ us!" he shot back. "We _trusted_ you and you_ betrayed_ us!"

"_Betrayed is such a harsh word. I prefer to think of it as 'realigned my loyalties'."_

"Why?" Lassiter demanded. "Why would you do that?"

"_Why does anyone do such a thing? They made me a better offer._"

* * *

Now on to the new stuff. :D


	2. Part the Second

NEW STUFF! YAYZ!

* * *

"What? A Scooby Snack?" Lassiter sneered.

Shawn's voice turned unexpectedly serious.

"_No. Something much more valuable._"

Crap.

Lassiter's eyes closed and he leaned his head back against the wall. There was only one thing that he could think of . . . Well, two actually, but he knew for a fact that one was no longer available for bartering.

"_Sorry, Lassie. But I had to make a choice._"

"There were others you could have made."

"_No. There weren't. Believe me I tried. They've got me locked in." _There was a pause, then,_ "It's nothing personal."_

That had Lassiter's eyes popping open, his head shooting forward. "Nothing pers- Spencer, you're talking about _taking me out._ That's pretty personal to me."

"_You'd prefer I abandon her? Lassie, I'm disappointed. Where's your sense of gentlemanly honor?_"

"Do you know where they've got her?"

"_There's no way in. They're got it too well guarded."_

"Where is it?"

Shawn cursed, his patience finally running out.

"_There's no other way, Lassiter. I've checked. And I'm running out of time. You're the last one. If I don't report back in the next six minutes then there's no point in doing so."_

Lassiter cursed. Then repeated it. Several times.

It didn't help.

"_Look, I realize that you're not eager to do this, but I still have to hoof it halfway across town. And, really, is another thirty seconds going to make that big of a difference?"_

"It does to me," Lassiter snarled.

"_Fair enough,"_ Shawn allowed._ "When you're ready just walk out the door. It'll be over before you know it."_

Lassiter didn't respond. He had nothing more to say.

He swore again, pushing away from the wall and then turning to kick it.

What was he supposed to do?

The idea of just giving up like that burned in his gut like acid.

But he couldn't just write Juliet off.

Then another thought occurred to him.

How did he know that Spencer was telling the truth?

Juliet might already be dead. He might have actually turned.

Why would they go to the trouble of recruiting him to take out his own side? It didn't make sense.

Well, except for the fact that Spencer was almost a sniper in skill level and a freaking ghost when it came to getting around and not being spotted. Last he'd heard they'd lost half their team to him.

As a special bonus if he did it they didn't have to waste ammo or risk any of their guys.

Another curse.

He didn't have a choice.

He couldn't take the chance that Spencer was lying.

If he was telling the truth and Lassiter got Juliet killed . . .

One last curse and he squared his shoulders and set aside his rifle.

He just hoped Shawn was right about how quickly it would be over.

He let his eyes close and took one last deep breath.

Now or never.

He stepped outside.

* * *

Okay yeah, there's not the shock factor like last time. But there is newness yet to come! :D


	3. Part the Third

And now the conclusion . . .

:D

* * *

Shawn had been right.

It was quick.

Daylight hit his face and mere heartbeats later the shot hit his chest.

He exhaled sharply, his eyes flying open as the shock of it knocked him back into the door.

He looked down, his fingers going to the bright splash of color on his chest. He gingerly touched it, rubbed his fingers together.

Not the texture he'd been expecting, he thought with idle fascination.

Defeat and weariness washed over him and he slid down the door until he was sitting.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. It was over, he thought, and let his hand drop to the ground. He could stop running.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Shawn's smiling face.

"You died with honor, Lassie."

"I'd prefer to not have died," Lassiter responded, wiping his hands on his pants, then holding it up in a silent bid for assistance as the call went out over the radio that Team Red had won and the game was over.

Shawn obliged, tugging him to his feet.

"We all have to go sometime," he said and clapped the older man on the back. "And there are worse ways to go."

Lassiter grunted, but made no other response.

"So did you have fun?"

Lassiter looked around at the mock city that looked like it had indeed been through a very bad riot--or a war. The recently dead and dying were appearing out of doorways and holes blasted in walls, converging in the street to link up with their teammates and opponents and compare experiences and body counts as they made their way back to their respective HQs for the debriefing.

"I still don't know how you talked both the Karen and Chief Roberts into trading our annual Fire/Police baseball game into a paintball competition," he said and headed out to join the mass exodus.

Shawn grinned and paced him. "Are you serious? Fire and Police department battle royale? It just screams shoot out. I wanted a Halo competition actually--go all RedvsBlue LIVE!--but there were some issues with getting that many X-boxes together so we could network it. Plus this way you guys still got to run around."

"Yeah but we _lost_. Thanks to _you_."

"They took Juliet and then barricaded themselves in," Shawn protested. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Your psychic powers couldn't see that coming?" Lassiter sneered.

In truth Shawn had never imagined the firefighters could be that sneaky. He would not underestimate them again.

But he wasn't going to admit that aloud, so instead he gave Lassiter a stern look. "That would be cheating, Detective."

"And kidnapping and coercion to betray aren't cheating?"

Shawn shook his head. "Not according to the rule book. We'll have to make sure that goes in before next year."

Lassiter stopped cold. "Next year?"

Shawn stopped as well and turned back. "Of course! You think anyone's going to want to go back to baseball after this? Not that it's not a good game but, well let's face it. Nothing is as cathartic as shooting the crap out of your fellow public servants."

Lassiter looked around again.

He'd never seen some of his coworkers so happy and enthused about anything.

And if he was completely honest, it _had_ been fun. He was ready to drop from exhaustion, but it was a good exhaustion from an honest day's efforts.

Well, it had been fun until Spencer turned on them. But he'd just have to make sure that didn't happen next year.

"Next year . . ." he said softly. A small smile curved his lips. "I can't wait."

* * *

BWA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! I think I has created a monster . . .

:D EXCELLENT!

There will be one more story in this saga to come . . . Keep your eyes open for it!


End file.
